


Puppy Tails - The Chair

by Aurora_bee



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Destruction of Armchairs, Exhaustion, Gen, Humor, M/M, Puppies, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-06
Updated: 2014-05-06
Packaged: 2018-01-23 19:07:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1576295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurora_bee/pseuds/Aurora_bee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gladstone is a little bit naughty, but it's not all his fault.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Puppy Tails - The Chair

John yawned as he got out of bed, he slipped on his old battered slippers and opened the bedroom door. It was always odd when Sherlock wasn’t in the flat, he was used to the fact that Sherlock was rarely in the bed when he awoke, but being alone just felt strange. Currently Sherlock was in Austria rating a case, normally he would have been gone a day at most but flights had been delayed going out and Sherlock had already been gone a day and a half.

“Come on Gladstone.” John said to the puppy that was curled up into a ball at the end of the bed. Gladstone lifted his head and yawned, his tail beating the bed as his father spoke to him. “What’s this?” John said picking a yellow piece of foam from his fur. The puppy panted his tail wagging faster and faster. “Never mind.” John mumbled dropping the piece of foam onto the floor, he’d clean it up later, just now he wasn’t quite awake yet.

The kitchen was in exactly the same condition as when he had left it the previous evening, spick and span. John grinned to himself, it was nice to be able to make a cup of tea without having to clean up the debris of one of his beloved’s experiments from the night before. John flipped on the kettle and sprinkled some crunchies into Gladstone’s bowl for his breakfast. Another piece of yellow foam was stuck under Gladstone’s collar, John plucked it off and rolled it between his fingers. It felt a bit like memory foam he thought before putting it into the bin. 

The kettle clicked off, and John went about his morning routine of making himself his first cup of tea of the day. Hopefully it would wake him up a little and he could relax and read the morning news on his laptop. Looking out the kitchen window into their tiny back garden John took his first sip of what he considered to be the ambrosia of life, and sighed a contented sigh. The phone on the kitchen table bleeped signalling a text, John picked it up and read the message grinning widely.

Barely a 3. Bored. I miss you. Coming home now.  
SH

John typed out a short reply.

I miss you too. I love you. Be quick.  
JW

It was true of course, John may have enjoyed that he could occasionally make a cup of tea without the risk of poisoning, but life without Sherlock wasn’t worth living. John picked up his cup of tea and mobile, and noticed a trail of yellow foam leading into the living room. Curiously he followed it until he reached Sherlock’s armchair.

“Gladstone!” John shouted.

 

Gladstone had a morose look on his face as his dad collected all of the foam and tried to asses the situation. Sherlock’s former chair no longer had a cushion on the seat, it didn’t really have much of anything it was more or less a foamy frame. Gladstone had completely ripped the leather off it, and chewed it into oblivion. Cross legged John sat in front of the chair and cringed as he tried to pull the pieces of leather back together.

“What got into you?” John asked the puppy whose head was lowered and tail between his legs. “Well at least you know you’ve done something wrong.” John frowned, not liking that Gladstone looked scared. Slowly he reached out and scratched Gladstone’s head feeling relief when he didn’t cower. “Come on you, let’s have a look see if I can get a replacement that’s at least similar, because Uncle Sherlock is definitely going to notice this. I suppose I should be grateful it wasn’t my chair you dissected.” John chuckled as he picked Gladstone up to sit with him on the sofa as he browsed for chairs on his laptop. 

 

“Where did you get the van from?” John asked as he struggled with Greg to get Sherlock’s new chair out of the back of the vehicle.

“Mycroft.” Greg replied as the chair landed with a thump on the road.

“Mycroft has a… Never mind.” John grumbled dragging the chair up onto the curb. “It’s nice of you to give me a hand though Greg. I’m really grateful.”

“Talking of which….” Greg said rather sheepishly, looking at his watch. “I’m going to have to make a move. I have a meeting with the Super.” John shrugged, wondering if he should text one of his rugby mates to help him take it up the stairs. Greg climbed back into the van and waved goodbye as he sped off back to work

After pushing the Chair through the front door on his own John felt quite pleased with himself, his army training still had a use. Making sure the path was clear John walked up the stairs and opened the living room door freeing Gladstone in the process.

“Don’t you dare rip this new one.” John said as he bounced down the stairs after the puppy. Gladstone sniffed the new chair and wagged his tail. “Right.” John said pushing the chair to the bottom of the stairs. “Here we go.” 

 

John’s face was red with exertion, he didn’t think he had ever been quite so out of breath, not even after a particularly aerobic session with Sherlock. The chair was only on the first landing, and had been considerably more awkward to move than John had first thought, especially when he realised Gladstone was sat in it. The mobile in his pocket chortled, John sat on a step and read the message.

At Gatwick. Will be there once Mycroft has me released. Apparently border control requires some form of documentation to bring in human bones.  
SH

John rolled his eyes, sometimes his genius partner could be incredibly dumb. Thankful for the reprieve John climbed over the chair. “Time for a cup of tea I think.”

 

Sherlock slammed the front door. The audacity of border control, he’d explained several times that the bones were needed for an experiment on the affects of coal tar on human bone marrow, but they hadn’t allowed him to keep them. Mycroft hadn’t been any help either, prancing in and making excuses for him, as if he needed an excuse.

“John?” Sherlock called, as he made his way up the stairs. There were new scuffs on the wall, Sherlock noticed, suddenly it clicked together in his head. Gladstone had attacked his chair, and it was bad enough to warrant John getting him a new one. Apparently he hadn’t quite scrubbed the time delay dog urine experiment he had spilled well enough.

“Urgggg..” John groaned from where he was laying flat out on the rug in front of the fireplace as Sherlock entered the living room.

“Why are you on the floor?” Sherlock asked while Gladstone jumped up on him, clearly having missed his uncle.

“Everything hurts. I can’t move.” John groaned.

“You should have waited until I got home.” Sherlock said as he skirted around John and sat down in his new chair. “It’s quite comfortable.” Sherlock said obviously impressed. Gladstone jumped up onto his lap and he stroked his head.

“Good.” John said sarcastically as he tried to sit up as his muscles protested.

“Pity we’ll have to move it again tomorrow.” Sherlock replied lifting his feet up and resting them on John’s hip.

“What!” John snapped sitting upright. “You mean I brought that sodding chair all the way upstairs and you don’t want it?” Gladstone jumped off his uncle Sherlock’s lap and sniffed the air.

“Of course I want it.” Sherlock said standing up and helping John to his feet. “It’s just that we need a new rug.” 

“Why?” John asked confused shaking his leg as Gladstone chewed on the bottom of his jeans.

“And you might want to change and shower since you’ve been laying on it.” Sherlock said holding back a grin. John rolled his eyes and breathed deeply trying not to lose his temper.

“I told you to keep that experiment in the kitchen.” John sighed annoyed, then made his way to the bathroom as Gladstone tugged on the bottom of his jeans. 

“Use the shower gel in the purple bottle.” Sherlock shouted, John turned and frowned at him. “I’ll give you a massage when you’re finished.” Sherlock added hopefully.

“Ok then…. Wear the sheet.” John said as the corner of his mouth twitched up in a smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd so any mistakes please let me know. Ta muchly!


End file.
